Lady in Red
by SableUnstable
Summary: She's the end. She's the beginning. She's a lady in red and now she's his. Sirimione one-shot, post war, rated M only for language.


**Lady in Red**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, anything related to it, or _The Lady in Red_ by Chris de Burgh.

 **A/N -** Short Sirimione with fluffs. Just because. :)

* * *

Leaning back against the wall, his hands in his pockets and his hair falling in his face, Sirius contemplated the shine in his shiny black shoes. They were polished within an inch of their life, the leather throwing off such a liquidy sheen, he could almost treat them like a mirror. Sirius stared down at them, twisting one foot from left to right and then doing the same with the other.

Muggle in design, these particular shoes were generally kept for a special occasion. His stomach twisted at the thought, nerves setting over his skin and making the room feel hotter than it probably was. His heart thudded in his chest, and Sirius lifted a hand to rub it over his mouth, his breath hitching as it escaped in a rush. He could feel a bead of sweat running down his back. His brows pulled down.

Why was he so nervous? Throwing his head back and only just stopping it from banging into the wall too hard for comfort, his eyes rose to the ceiling and he swallowed, the obstruction in his throat a rock he was having trouble breathing around. He felt like a teenage boy on his first date and Merlin knew he was well past that. But _this_ was special; hence the shoes, and the pressed, dark woolen trousers, and the midnight-blue silk shirt. No jeans and motorcycle jacket that night. She deserved much more than that.

She deserved more than he could give.

"All right there, Padfoot?"

His smile was wan when he lowered his head and looked over at his oldest friend. Remus stood the doorway to his dining room, the corner of his mouth twitching with a knowing smirk. Sirius grimaced, then bared his teeth at him.

"Just fine, thanks, Moony. How about you?"

Remus laughed, walked over and slapped a hand on his mate's shoulder, green eyes dancing with amusement. "I don't think I've ever seen you so jumpy," he said with a grin. "I find it extremely entertaining."

Sirius scowled and speared a hand through his hair. His stomach was a mass of knots. "Fuck you, mate."

"Well now I don't think _I'm_ the one you should be-"

"Remus, would you leave the poor man alone?"

Head snapping towards the staircase, Sirius's heart stopped. It felt like time slowed. Blurring and tunnelling, it zoomed in to focus on the magnificent creature slowly coming down the stairs. The air fled his lungs and Sirius stared, wide-eyed and tongue-tied, unable to look away.

She was a vision in red.

The dress hugged her slender figure like a second skin. Starting at her chest and ending a good couple of inches above her knees, it moulded to her shape, showing off creamy, kissable shoulders and miles of long, smooth leg. Her hair was a riot of curls around her shoulders and down her back, and her lips matched the colour of the dress so perfectly, it made him ache. She stopped on the final step in strappy red stilettos, her hand resting on the banister, her smile tentative. Sirius couldn't move.

A siren. She was a fucking _siren_ and he was lost.

"S-Sirius?"

The little jump in her voice had his common sense firing again. Shaking his head to clear it, he ignored Remus's quiet sniggering and pushed away from the wall to walk towards her, eyes locked on the mystical being who was doing him the great honour of spending the evening with him. Reaching out, he took her hand and guided her down the final step until they were standing toe-to-toe, her heels giving her inches she wouldn't normally have. Her head tilted back and her smile grew a little. Sirius swallowed hard.

"Hello," Hermione murmured, nerves that echoed his in her eyes. "You're early."

"And you're so fucking beautiful it hurts," he answered without thinking. Behind him, Remus snorted, and Sirius threw him a quick glare, his neck feeling a little more heated than he was used to. The soft blush he saw on Hermione's cheeks when he turned back made up for that, however, and going with instincts he'd followed all his life, he lifted the hand he still held and gently pressed his lips to the back of it. The flush in her cheeks deepened and the ground that up until that point had been shifting and unsettled under his feet, began to slide back into place.

He knew this. This was familiar territory and he could do this. He _would_ do this.

Sirius smirked.

"Thank you," she said, still flushed, eyes dropped demurely. When he lowered her hand but didn't let go of it, instead intertwining their fingers and firmly wrapping it up in his, her eyes flicked up and over him in a look that shouted anything but demure. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Silently blowing out a breath and telling his libido to calm the hell down - that night was for wooing, not exploring that possibilities in those bedroom eyes - Sirius murmured a thank you and then lifted his chin and smiled at the witch who'd followed Hermione down the stairs. "Good evening, sunshine."

Luna grinned and danced down onto the landing, coming to a stop beside Remus. "May the light of the stars bless you this night, Sirius Black. Go on now. Your reservation is for seven o'clock," she said, her hand slipping into the werewolf's. Remus smiled down at her and Sirius looked at Hermione.

"Ready to go, my lady?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, let's," she said, walking around him to take the short brown coat with the furred collar from Luna. After helping her into it and resisting the urge to see if those lovely shoulders felt as soft as they looked at the same time, Sirius took her hand again and they left the house.

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the cadillac. "We're not apparating?"

"No," Sirius answered with a shake of his head. "It's a really nice evening and I thought you'd enjoy the drive with the top down. We can apparate if you want to of course…?"

Hermione keep her eyes on the car for a moment and then looked over at him with a mischievous grin. "You know, I do like the wind in my hair," she said, then led the way toward their transport with eager steps that clicked on the pavement and made the bottom of her coat flutter. Sirius only just made it to the car before she did, tugging at her arm to get her to pause so that he was able to open the door for her. Smirking, he bowed at the waist.

"In that case, my lady, your chariot awaits."

Hermione laughed and slid into the seat. The drive wasn't long, the night still and clear; still enough that the wind only made Hermione's curls fly a little but didn't dim the smile on her face. Sirius watched her as covertly as possible as he drove.

She was a shining beacon. His heart raced.

They made it to the restaurant with time to spare. This time, Hermione waited until he'd parked, gotten out and came around to her side, smiling at him when he helped her out. The maitre d had soon taken her coat and had a waiter lead them to their table, a private, quietly lit setting at the back of the room. Sirius waved away the waiter's attempt at pulling Hermione's chair out, doing it himself instead, and a short speech later had two glasses of crisp white wine placed in front of them, the bottle left in a bucket of ice next to Sirius's elbow.

Sirius raised his glass and touched it to hers. "To an enjoyable night."

Hermione's smile was soft. "To us," she said. Elation spreading to the point that his skin felt like it was humming with it, Sirius took a sip and looked over the menu, ordering quickly once the waiter had made his way back to them.

The conversation over dinner flowed easily. The food was very good and the wine was better, and he loved the way her eyes brightened when she spoke, and the way she spoke with her entire body. Her hands flew and her cheeks were pink by the end of the meal, the wine and the company giving her a glow that hooked Sirius right through the gut, catching and holding his attention like a fly in a trap. He didn't stop watching her, and it was towards the end of the evening when he sat back just as the music that had been playing softly in the background switched over to a song that had his head turning in a very Padfoot-like manner. A smirk grew.

"Would the lady care to dance?" he asked, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to her. Hermione blinked and then a brow cocked in amusement when she heard exactly what was playing.

"Really, Sirius?"

"Yes, really. Come now, it's perfect."

"But there isn't a dance floor!" Hermione protested. Sirius shrugged.

"So? Do we need one? The song will be over soon and no one can see us back here. Please?"

Holding his gaze for a long moment, Hermione finally sighed and tossed her napkin onto the table. "Fine," she said, getting up. "But I can't dance, you know I can't."

"You only need to be able to sway, love," he said, stepping up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him. He smiled when he heard the way her breath caught and pressed his cheek to hers once her arms had come up to clasp around the back of his neck. With deft movements, he began to gently move them in time with the song.

It was _such_ a perfect song.

" _The lady in red,"_ he crooned softly in her ear, lips brushing her lobe, " _is dancing with me, cheek to cheek. There's nobody here,"_ Hermione sighed and pressed further into him, her body swaying as they circled, shut away in their own little world, " _it's just you and me, it's where I want to be."_

"I think you know who I am though," she murmured as the song continued with the line about not knowing the beauty by the singer's side. Sirius grinned. She was a chameleon. It was one of the best things about her.

There were so many things about her that he adored. _So_ many.

" _I'll never forget the way you look tonight,_ " he sang, voice going rough at the end and arms around her tightening. He felt her smile spread slowly and then she was pulling back and looking into his eyes, hand cupping his cheek.

"Happy 20th anniversary, my love," she said quietly, and Sirius made a sound in the back of his throat and dropped his head to kiss her, putting all the memories and emotion of the last twenty years into touch. His hand dived into her hair and he allowed the electrifying taste of her drug him, to fill him up, her breathless moan fuel to the fire.

Breaking away, he curled into her, his head to her chest. "I love you so fucking much," he rasped, heart sprinting and eyes squeezed shut tight. His wife let out a little laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

"Let's go home and have a proper celebration, yeah?" she suggested softly. Sirius let out a shuddering sigh and nodded, his mouth pressed to her heart.

The fact that it was beating just as hard as his was was an anchor he didn't know he needed.

"I'm driving this time," Hermione said as they paid and left the restaurant. Sirius shot her a smirking look.

"Are you? Should I send out a widespread warning then?"

Hermione looked affronted. "Excuse me? I was the one who taught you how to drive, mister!"

"And a fine job you did of it too," Sirius said, clambering into the passenger seat and tossing the keys into her lap. "I just wish you'd take your own advice."

"I took it when I married you, didn't I?" she countered, throwing him a wink. Sirius snorted.

"No, love, you took Harry's, which was to do him a favour and put me out of my moaning, pining misery. And I will ever be eternally grateful that you did."

The look in her eyes was a lance, stabbing through him and stealing his breath, just like she'd stolen it at Bill and Fleur's wedding all those years ago, and many times since. She'd been wearing a red dress then too. His lips tilted up and he reached over to push her hair back out of her eyes.

 _I'll never forget the way you look tonight._

"Me too," she said so softly the wind making her hair dance dragged the words away, her eyes locked on his. His smile grew.

"Let's go home," he said. Hermione's breath misted in the cooling air, a rush of white. She nodded and pulled the car out onto the road, and all the way home, Sirius didn't take his eyes off her.

He'd given his heart away to a lady in red over twenty years ago and it wasn't something he ever wanted back. He loved her more than life itself.


End file.
